


Changes in the Tide

by FiresFromOurHearts



Series: Uncharted Waters [14]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack, Gen, Hazing, Humor, The chunins are all laughing in the background, They're having a great time, it's NOT treated seriously, kind of, not at all, shogi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:27:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29836695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiresFromOurHearts/pseuds/FiresFromOurHearts
Summary: That one people have always been asking for - Shikaku vs Toru in shogi.
Relationships: Nara Shikaku & Original Character(s)
Series: Uncharted Waters [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1875832
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	Changes in the Tide

It starts by accident. Or, well, to be exact it starts with a challenge many years ago. The two involved in the challenge have never been named, and gossip says that their names have been lost to time, _(in reality, both Kakashi and Gai refuse to own up to one challenge that ended in disaster and three rooms needing to be rebuilt and paint in the coffee machine)_. Regardless, the challenge ends with the Chūnin Lounge, well known for its hard couches and limited space and strangely organised bookshelves, with a coffee machine.

This isn’t just any coffee machine, however. It is the _best_ coffee machine. Or, at the very least, it’s the best coffee machine that you can use for free. It’s saved many sleep-deprived chūnins over the years. And, due to its location near the Hokage’s Office, it frequently sees use by many ninjas who aren’t actually chūnins.

_(Listen, no one is going to tell a sleep-deprived Ibiki he has to go get his coffee elsewhere. Or, even worse, Shikaku Nara. They’re chūnins and they don’t have death wishes.)_

_(On the other hand, the machine has yet to be stolen because the chūnins turn out to be frightfully competent when their source of caffeine is threatened. That might also be due to the fact a new chūnin working in the Ninja Academy going by the name of Iruka was living off the coffee the Chūnin Lounge offered, his own machine broken. And Iruka, it turns out, is very effective in getting people working together and is very capable of breaking into the T & I Building to retrieve the coffee machine, and walked into the Jōnin Lounge with no fear to retrieve it days later. A lot of people came to fear the name Iruka during that time. Iruka, having passed most of that time in a caffeine-fuelled rage, remembers little. It’s probably for the best.)_

But none of that’s the point. The point is that it’s well known that the Chūnin Lounge has the best coffee machine. It is, as it happens, the best coffee machine closest to Shikaku Nara’s office. And so, the Jōnin Corps Commander is frequently seen using the machine or sending someone to fetch his coffee for him when he’s under siege by paperwork and his receptionist refuses to let him escape.

There’s also a shogi board in the lounge, though almost no one uses it. By the time one reaches jōnin rank, it’s common knowledge that Shikaku is the best shogi player in Konoha and almost no one will join him for a match. However, he’s gotten increasingly good at having games without anyone realising who they’re playing against.

Unfortunately, most of the jōnins have realised that when shogi boards have some movement over time, it’s usually Shikaku playing a match and have begun to avoid responding so that they aren’t forced to play a game. The _chūnins_ , on the other hand, have no idea.

It’s almost become a hazing thing—you have to play a shogi match at some point against an invisible opponent. The games can last for days, depending on how frequently one enters the Chūnin Lounge and how long it takes for them to pick up that they’re going to lose.

And so, this takes us to the beginning: an accident. Kind of.

Toru Uchiha hasn’t ever played shogi as an Uchiha. Now, in one life, he frequently played it with his genin sensei, even when he wasn’t a genin anymore. It was an easy way to catch up, dinner and a shogi match—whether it be between him and Ayumu or one of them and their sensei. Toru might not be good at it, but he’s somewhat capable of throwing out some surprising tactics and he’s been playing it for a few decades.

_(And he’s smart, though he generally downplays that whenever it comes up. It does, however, help quite a bit.)_

So when Toru sees a shogi board in the Chūnin Lounge, he really can’t help himself. He’s missed it, though he hadn’t realised that previously. It’s not something Uzushio specific, but it reminds him of Uzushio, _(reminds him of evenings spent in laughter, of Ayumu and grinning the whole night, of his sensei and how her laugh seemed to fill the whole room without even trying)_.

“Is anyone playing with that?” He says, gesturing to one of the two that’s perfectly set up but doesn’t appear to be in play.

A nearby chūnin, who’s spent six years as chūnin and has a reputation for tricking people into playing shogi with Shikaku, quickly smothers her grin. “Nope! But, if you start playing, you’ll generally have someone play against you at some point. Since everyone floats in and out, it’s like playing against a ghost over a long time period.”

Toru nods. “Thanks,” he says and crosses over to the shogi board that’s set up right next to the coffee machine.

_(Shikaku may or may not have had an input into the layout; and—listen—if he did, he clearly had very important reasons for doing so. You know, like decreasing the number of steps he has to take a day. Very important things.)_

It’s been a while since Toru’s played, but he knows the rules rather well still. And, more importantly, he remembers his favoured tactics and the ones that usually led to a winning match against others, although it was frequently up in the air.

Starting moves, however, are usually fairly boring. He shifts the golden general, then leaves the table behind and goes to see what’s in the bookshelves. They’re clearly hiding something, organised as they are. Either hiding something or someone had too much time on their hands and made sure everything was well organised. Toru knows which one he’d lay a bet on.

* * *

So it kind of starts as an accident. Toru just moves a piece on a shogi board and has no idea what he’s about to start. To be fair, even the chūnin who’d egged Toru to start a game had no idea what was going to happen. Though it’s probably her fault. Or maybe the coffee machine for starting the whole business.

* * *

The game moves slowly. Toru only drops by the Chūnin Lounge once a week, if that, and he’s pleasantly surprised to see that his shogi partner has made a move. They’ve moved a pawn forward, a simple enough move. So Toru ignores that and shifts his king to be next to the golden general.

Then, having forgotten what he came for, he leaves. And the game goes on.

In this vein, the game continues. The thing is, it doesn’t end after like five moves. And _that_ catches people’s attention. No one had made it past five moves before. Everyone had thought it was impossible. And somehow Toru still remains unaware of who he’s playing.

Listen, the majority of chūnins think that shogi is rather boring compared to a number of other games, but there’s something entertaining in watching the Jōnin Corps Commander play against a chūnin who has no idea what’s happening.

_(See, most people give up upon realising that they’re not playing anyone on a chūnin level or someone finally takes pity on them and tells them the truth. But that’s usually because they’re losing so badly and still trying to have a comeback. There are no comebacks against Shikaku. His shogi prowess is **feared**.)_

_(Toru, however, is not losing. There’s no obvious sign of who will win at the moment. It keeps everyone on edge because what if Shikaku finally loses? Or, at least, doesn’t have an overwhelming victory in under ten moves.)_

Toru has an idea that something’s up, but not what. He just assumes he’s versing someone important. Perhaps another ANBU or maybe an old chūnin. He’s very, very off.

He plays on.

* * *

For some reason, Toru never comes across his shogi partner. Though, he does keep odd times. He’ll come in during the night just to shift a piece, disappear for a week or more on a mission, and then pop by randomly to shift another piece. His opponent, on the other hand, seems to keep somewhat reasonable hours.

_(Of course, it’s not just strange schedules that keep Shikaku and Toru from meeting. The chūnins are captivated by this game and help keep the two apart, sure that it’ll end once the gig is up. This is one of the most entertaining things that they’ve seen happen in months. They’re going to keep it going for as long as possible.)_

In the end, it comes to a rather strange conclusion. Once again, it happens by accident.

* * *

Although rare, Shikaku does occasionally pull overtime in the office. Largely when something has happened and the paperwork is trying to bury him alive once again. He knows that many of the other department heads are similarly embroiled in a bitter battle. It is, of course, that time of year—budget wrangling. Shikaku does have accountants like all the other heads, but he also knows that if he wants to put forward any proposals, he has to argue that they can handle the finances for it too.

It’s tiresome and bothersome and he’s well used to it after all these years. Even his receptionist knows to leave him to it and heads home whilst Shikaku is still in the office, which they refuse to do at any other time of the year.

And so, Shikaku finds himself watching the coffee machine as it creates another coffee for him. While he waits, he glances sideways at the shogi table, before looking around the Chūnin Lounge.

As always, it’s bizarrely neat, though the bookshelves are starting to show sign of dust. There are a few scattered chūnins around. A group of three piled together on the couch, a ninken by someone’s feet with its eyes closed. In the corner, someone’s reading a book and carefully eating something in slow bites. There’s two more chūnins, heads bent over together, keeping a low conversation among them.

Someone enters on silent footsteps, and Shikaku glances at them before looking away. A young chūnin, looking like he just got back from a late-night mission with paperwork still in hand.

However, the young chūnin— _Uchiha_ , Shikaku realises after a heartbeat, because he remembers the kid in the Clan Councils—heads towards Shikaku’s shogi board. He scans it silently for a few minutes then, in one steady movement, moves a piece.

 _This_ is who Shikaku has been playing against!

Snatching his coffee the moment the machine beeps, Shikaku reaches the Uchiha’s side with swift, long strides. Then, without looking at the Uchiha, he stares at the board and makes a move.

For a long moment, it looks like the Uchiha won’t do anything. After a minute or two, however, he slides into a seat on one side of the table and Shikaku sits across from him. He takes a long sip from his coffee. He definitely should be fighting the budget into a reasonable shape, but there are more important matters.

Maybe this game will come to a stop rather than continuing on for another few months.

* * *

The morning finds Shikaku and Toru still playing, though the game appears to be slowly dawdling towards its inevitable ending. Neither of them have shifted since they’d sat down in the night nor have they eaten anything since. Shikaku is subsisting off a reasonable amount of coffee, _(considering he’s decreased from having two coffees in one hour like he’d been before he’d sat down to play Toru, he thinks he’s doing rather well with only one coffee every two hours)_ , and his hands aren’t even shaking! A good result all around.

Toru, on the other hand, seems to still be wide awake and running off the alertness from his mission, whatever it was, and only drinks water occasionally, for the most part gazing at the board thoughtfully.

Eventually, two and a half hours after the sun has risen. The game comes to a close. Toru looks up, meets Shikaku’s gaze, and offers a smile. “Good game,” he says.

“Good game,” Shikaku echoes, brows faintly furrowed. “How long have you been playing for? Some of the moves you used were… unusual.”

_(Unusual, Toru does not say, is Uzushio’s moniker.)_

Toru shrugs with one shoulder. “A while,” he says. “I learnt from a few people, which might explain it.” As far as Shikaku will be able to verify, it’s true too, _(there is, perhaps, a few benefits of having all your family and childhood friends die, though Toru’d prefer if it had never happened)_.

“Right,” Shikaku says. Then, he blinks, looks past the chūnins who’ve gathered around to watch their game even though none of them care for shogi much, and looks out the window where the sun has well and truly risen. He squints at it, mildly irritated by the amount of light and the fact it’s once again _day_. He doesn’t regret the hours spent playing, but he will have to make up that time. Not to mention, Yoshino will likely be irritated by him staying the whole day without any warning. He had planned to be home for breakfast and had told her so. Oh well, he’ll apologise tomorrow.

Turning his gaze towards Toru, he meets the Uchiha’s eyes and considers the younger chūnin. He would place a bet on Toru being an ANBU now, based on how he played, but there’s certainly something else there. Toru is far from what Shikaku expected, though he really should’ve destroyed his preconceptions earlier. Uchihas rarely play to expectations and, more importantly, Toru has already proven to be well versed in defying expectations and doing the impossible.

“We’ll have to play another game at some time,” Toru says. “Perhaps when we both have time, rather than playing when we have other tasks we should be doing. Assuming you were getting coffee for a reason and not simply having coffee for the sake of having coffee.”

Shikaku glances at the blank mission papers at Toru’s side, before inclining his head in agreement. He’s not surprised that Toru has asked him to play another game, it _had_ been a close match after all. Though people rarely play Shikaku. Then again, Toru isn’t really like most people.

“Soon,” he agrees. Then, reconsidering the budget problems and the build up of paperwork that’s bound to happen now that he’s delayed completing the budget. “Maybe in two weeks.”

Grinning, Toru stands up and stretches, and Shikaku grimaces at the sound of a cracking spine. He does the same but that doesn’t mean he has to like it when someone else does it. “Sounds good,” the younger ninja says. “If you’re not busy when I hand in my paperwork, I’ll drop by and we can discuss it.”

Toru is turning out to be a rather interesting person and Shikaku certainly wouldn’t mind having a conversation with him. “I’ll see you then,” he says.

_(So maybe the first game is an accident. But the second game certainly isn’t. Nor the one after that. And the endless number that follow. It does, in time, fade to gossip and eventually no one knows if it ever happened. Shikaku and Toru will both laugh at it and delight in stirring up more chaos. They have the time, after all, and they have to talk about something during their matches. It might as well be something interesting.)_

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have much to say but people have been asking for this one for a while. So, enjoy!


End file.
